


On a Monday

by President_Zebra



Category: Stargirl (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27548821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/President_Zebra/pseuds/President_Zebra
Summary: He knows,Rick Tyler will always be alone.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 152





	On a Monday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoonlightShines (Thatkillervibe)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatkillervibe/gifts).



> Thank you to @freckledpianoman for beta-ing this. This is for tkv, hope you enjoy.

The day his world ended was a Monday. 

In Mrs. Beacher’s 2nd grade, a young boy pulls a young girl’s pigtail braids as he walks up to turn in his math quiz. 

The old woman shakes her head as her red pen skims the pages of exams that are laid out across her desk. The boy pushes a floppy brown curl behind his ear and sticks his tongue out at the girl. 

His sneakers scuff against the tiled floors as he runs through the doors toward the playground. A young girl in a yellow sundress and strappy sandals sits alone on the swing sets, immersed in a hardcover novel. 

He hears the chains creak on the old bars, her feet barely touch the ground. He runs toward another boy who’s almost-bangs keep falling in front of his face. 

He chases after him, tackling him to the ground as they roll around in the grass. 

Mrs. Beacher calls them inside, herding them into a line like ducklings in a pond. 

He waits outside the school entrance, shielding his eyes from the burning sun with the back of his hand. 

A bright yellow car pulls into the parking lot and it honks across at him. He bolts, opening and slamming the backseat door shut. 

His mother, a bright young woman, with a smile that carries luster. The man beside her reaches back, keeping his eyes on the road as he pats his knee. 

The little boy sleeps, bolting up in bed at the sound of shouting and the crashing of glass. His mother speaks softly, not uttering anything but hopefulness in his ear as she strokes his cheek.

_Dad and I have to go away for a while._

The faint whisper of his father’s voice carries through the house, it’s quiet but it could move a mountain if it needed to. 

The porch light glimmers in the darkness of the pale Nebraska spring. He watches as a man, a man he’s only seen once before, approaches. 

First, it’s more shouting, then quietened whispers that sharply pierce the silence of the night. 

He runs into his mother’s arms, diluting her words to nonsense, he’s too frozen to hear her fully. She kisses his forehead and then reaches for his Father’s hand. 

A crash in the woods, followed by paperwork and police sirens outside his window. The man he’s only seen once before answers the door, answering the scary men’s questions. 

Two people, gone, and only kept alive in memory.

~⏳~

The next time, he’s 13. 

He’s 13 and he’s asking Charlotte Pekinsi to the school dance. Her eyes beam in the lamplight of the poorly lit outdoor basketball court. 

Her dark brown orbs pierce into him like gunfire. His lip quivers as she pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. His body wavers, sitting on the cold cement he waits for a response. 

He hears a light humming, even though it feels far away, even though he knows she’s sitting right next to him. 

She leans forward a places a quick peck on his lips. His eyes shoot open, he rubs a finger over his slack jaw, licking his lips. She tastes like starlight and daffodils and he can’t help but wonder if this was it. 

The girl starts to cry, scared of what she did. His smile fades and he reaches out but she’s running across the park and is already lost in the night.

~⏳~

14.

Words coming a mile per minute, the girl with _that_ smile, the girl with the round-rimmed glasses and flower petal sweaters. Her voice carries from the other side of the table.

He concentrates on his chemistry homework, moving between one notebook to the next. He hears her light giggle and the slight wave goodbye to the person on the other side of the tablet. 

His matted curls fall in front of his face, he pushes them away, squinting his eyes in concentration. 

He rolls his eyes, focusing back on his work and jotting notes in the margins. 

For the rest of the year, it’s just the two of them. Him and sunshine. Not a word uttered between them, no conversations held. The empty space between their lunch trays is enough for him. 

Her bright smile every time she sits down next to him carries hope.

~⏳~

15.

Pigtailed braids joins them eventually. He doesn’t question her presence at their table, he accepts it and moves on. He remembers her from before, from Beacher. 

He remembers her work ethic and willingness to learn. He remembers tugging on her braids and sticking out his tongue. 

Her smile is different, her smile carries distress and tiredness. It carries grief, it carries pain. Similar to his own. 

His father had once taught him not to invade privacy. His father had once taught him to be respectful. He had never laid eyes on the pictures.

Pigtailed braids isn’t like sunshine. Where the sunshine is warm and bubbly, Pigtail is cold and lonely. Sunshine carries a heart that is willing, Pigtail feels hollowed out.

He notices these things, but they don’t carry words. These words would remain meaningless. 

He basques in the silence and concentrates back on his work. 

~⏳~

16.

He senses footsteps behind him, followed by grunting and the dragging of a bag. Small golden ringlets speak to him as she beams at him. 

He rolls his eyes, turning back around and heading toward school.

She runs up in front of him and shows him the bag, holding an hourglass to his chest in confusion. 

He watches her brow knit together and she huffs, gently placing it back in the duffle. He chuckles, Goldie crosses her arms and waits for him to speak. 

When he says nothing, she sighs and walks in the opposite direction.

He remembers Goldie from the table, her short stature made up for by her persistence, grit, and optimism. 

Goldie regards him quietly, knowing the silent void is how the dynamic works.

Goldie isn’t like Pigtail without a spark in her eyes, or Sunshine who makes his heart soar whenever he hears her giggle. 

Goldie is strong witted and caring, balancing out their entrusted circle that they have. 

Goldie says,

_Your dad was a superhero._

~⏳~

18.

_Love,_

A feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time. Though he tried, he could never quite muster it. 

Goldie and Pigtail curl up on the couch while Sunshine snuggles into his side. His cap and gown are strewn across the floor, confetti scattered about.

Soft pink lips, he places them to her temple lightly. He curls a palm around her shoulder, rubbing circles into forearms. Cinnamon, lavender, even _sunshine,_ she smells like beauty.

And even though he knows this is one of their lasts, he knows it will have been worth it.

~⏳~

25.

Unlike before, this time is different. 

He can’t control it, the surges and waves of pain that fall over him every time he thinks of _her,_ and of _them._

This time, there’s no one left. 

This time, as he holds her lifeless body,

He knows,

_Rick Tyler will always be alone._


End file.
